Chapter 5

Calling her out of nowhere, and all he wanted to ask was whether she had eaten grapes.

‘He seems impatient, so he probably wants an immediate answer.’

Perhaps displeased by her silence, he asked again, persistently.

[I’m asking if you ate the grapes.]

His voice held an oddly desperate tone, as if the peaceful ending of this night depended on her answer.

“Grapes…”

Whenever they ate grapes, the Chairman liked to play around. He would pick some grapes, close them inside his hand, and ask her to guess how many there were.

Perhaps because the image of the Chairman smiling brightly suddenly came to mind, Seoyeon swallowed hard.

“I don’t like Shine Muscat.”

[Shine… Mus—what?]

Hearing a rustling sound, it seemed that Dogeon had sat up.

Seoyeon also sat up and leaned against the headboard.

Like a sunflower that had bent once and could never be raised again, her head hung downward.

‘Now the Chairman can never play the grape game with me again.’

Tears fell onto the blanket like raindrops, staining it brown.

“Mr. Cha Dogeon. I don’t like Shine Muscat. So please don’t give me grapes as gifts anymore.”

‘Is this woman crying?’

He pressed the phone tightly against his ear.

Is she crying because she is thinking about Grandpa? What kind of relationship did the two of them really have? Even I, his own blood relative, am this indifferent.

“Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t know the different types of grapes. The owner of the fruit shop said those were the most popular these days, so I bought them.”

He neither shouted nor spoke in an intimidating manner.

Compared to how loudly he had shouted earlier in this house while pretending to be the male lion from Animal Kingdom until his throat hurt, his current voice was practically that of someone soothing a baby.

“You seem to have a different kind of grape you want. Tell me. Next time, I’ll bring one that you really like.”

She answered.

“What…?”

Her answer was so absurd that while he was taking a moment to catch his breath, the call was unilaterally disconnected.

“Oh, shit. What? Grapes given by the Chairman? Should I go to her maternal grandfather’s grave and ask him to give me grapes? What time is it now? Hold on.”

He glared at the clock.

It was almost midnight.

“Midnight. Perfect. Should I dig up the grave and ask her maternal grandfather? Seriously, this woman! There’s a limit to how much you can mess with someone.”

“Whew… Haa.”

Swallowing down his rising temper with difficulty, Dogeon jumped out of bed.

But then he suddenly found one positive thing and breathed in.

“At least she answered the phone. Good. That’s something.”

Come to think of it, her voice had sounded strange.

Was she really crying?

He went to the study and took out a leather-covered notebook.

—Shine Muscat X.

—Likes the grapes she used to eat with her maternal grandfather.

The notebook contained Lee Seoyeon’s preferences.

—Hates informal speech.

—Has a clear preference for the kind of husband she wants.

“Too bad. If her maternal grandfather were still alive, he might know what kind of husband Lee Seoyeon wants.”

At that moment, someone suddenly came to his mind.

His maternal grandfather had another secretary.

A secretary who had served his maternal grandfather for more than thirty years.

Kim Sang-gil.

“That’s right. Why didn’t I think of him?”

With a new sense of hope, Dogeon sent Seoyeon a text.

Of course, he used the polite speech she seemed to prefer.

—Ms. Lee Seoyeon. Next time, I’ll definitely buy the grapes you like. Then, have a good night.

“Stiff and polite Lee Seoyeon, please don’t cry after reading this text. Sleep well.”

Without realizing it, Dogeon noticed that the corners of his mouth had lifted as he sent the message.

“I’m putting in the eye drops.”

Seoyeon had become visually impaired after suffering from a high fever when she was born, which had damaged her corneas.

Fortunately, she received a corneal donation when she was seven and regained her sight. However, she still had to undergo a regular eye examination once a year.

‘Of all times, why did my regular checkup have to be right after the Chairman’s funeral?’

While she was sitting in the waiting chair, her vision gradually became blurry.

The medicine dilated her pupils, so even after the examination, her vision would remain blurry for about three hours, making it difficult to see objects properly.

“Ms. Lee Seoyeon, please come in.”

When the nurse took Seoyeon’s arm, she stood up and followed her.

Seoyeon had lived in darkness for seven years, so she was used to walking with her eyes closed.

Thus, she entered the examination room without difficulty.

“You’re here, Ms. Lee Seoyeon.”

As she sat down, Dr. Choi approached her.

“This is your regular checkup. I’ll check everything carefully today. How are your eyes normally? Any blurred vision or lights spreading out?”

“Nothing like that, but…”

When Seoyeon trailed off, Dr. Choi asked again.

“Why? If there’s anything even slightly unusual, tell me. There are quite a few things that need lifelong management after a corneal transplant.”

The doctor examined the surface of her cornea and the transparency of the transplanted area.

With her chin resting on the machine and her eyes wide open, Seoyeon began to speak.

“My eyes suddenly started tearing up.”

“That can happen if your eyes are irritated by the wind.”

“It happened inside an elevator.”

“Indoors? That shouldn’t happen in an enclosed space. What was happening at the time?”

The machine was adjusted toward Seoyeon’s right eye.

“I was standing close to someone and looking into his eyes. Then, suddenly, tears came out.”

Dr. Choi let out a soft chuckle.

“Did you like him?”

“It’s not like that.”

“If it happens again, will you tell me? It could possibly be a condition we’re not aware of.”

Why had she reacted that way specifically toward that man, Cha Dogeon?

Was it simply because she was sad about the Chairman?

She was always nervous during her regular eye examinations, and now her mind was even more unsettled because she kept thinking about Dogeon.

Finally, the examination was over.

“Even after twenty years, your cornea is still in very good condition.”

Seoyeon nodded.

“You must be very lucky, Ms. Lee Seoyeon. You were seven, right? When you received the corneal transplant?”

“Yes, I was seven.”

“If you hadn’t received the transplant then, you probably would have permanently lost your sight. The donor’s corneas must have been very healthy. Even after twenty years, they’re still maintaining their transparency so well.”

After finishing the examination, Seoyeon came out into the hallway.

Everything that gave off light seemed to blur and flow across her vision.

Light coming through the windows fell across the hallway in square shapes. The curved hallway railing. The pale faces of people that looked as though they had no eyes, nose, or mouth. The floor had become like smooth, opaque glass.

Thinking it would be better to sit somewhere for a while, Seoyeon reached out her hand cautiously and sat on a chair in the middle of the hallway.

There was nowhere she needed to hurry to, and no one waiting for her.

Only then did she fully realize that she was completely alone.

As she let out a shallow sigh, she heard the sound of a text notification.

‘Who is it?’

She tried to focus her eyes, but the screen was so blurred that she couldn’t read the message at all.

However, after a moment, she was able to make out the sender’s name, written in slightly larger letters.

‘Cha Dogeon?’

After catching her breath, she sent a voice message.

“Mr. Cha Dogeon, I can’t read texts right now. I’ll contact you later.”

Soon, he called her.

Her phone had been empty, but since yesterday, Cha Dogeon kept trying to fill the place the Chairman had left behind.

‘A man who means nothing to me.’

“Hello.”

[Are you sick somewhere?]

Are you worried? About me? You only need me because of the inheritance, so why are you speaking as though you’re worried about me?

As if drawing a clear line between them, Seoyeon answered firmly.

“No.”

Dogeon’s laughter came through the phone and reminded her of the Chairman’s voice.

‘The way he slightly raises the right corner of his upper lip when he smiles is so much like him.’

[You’re pretending to be good at lying when you’re actually terrible at it.]

“I’m not sick.”

“You little rascal. If you’re sick, you should say you’re sick. Why do you keep saying you’re not?”

On the day Seoyeon collapsed with a fever of forty degrees Celsius, the Chairman had thundered at her.

Like a salmon swimming upstream, her thoughts once again reached that person.

The tip of Seoyeon’s nose tingled, and she desperately held back the breath she had drawn in.

“I’ll hang up.”

The moment she stubbornly ended the call, the clear sound of dress shoes echoed.

Judging by the heavy footsteps, the person seemed to be quite tall.

The man who stopped in front of Seoyeon opened his hand.

His large hand moved twice in a waving motion.

Seoyeon, who had been facing forward, slightly furrowed her brow.

After the hand that had been hanging in the air disappeared into his pocket, a familiar scent reached Seoyeon’s nose.

It was Cha Dogeon’s scent from the suite.

The scent of the worn leather covers of old books in an ancient library and the green moss growing between bricks.

It began intellectual and cool, but its finish was intensely sensual.

“You said you weren’t sick. Then why did you come to the hospital? Don’t tell me… you can’t see me right now?”